A month passed.
At Netfi headquarters, the celebration banquet for Death Note had already taken over the entire building. The tables were covered with craft beers, expensive wines, imported champagne, and bottles whose labels alone seemed to announce that this was not a night prepared for ordinary people. Nearby, barbecue grills, desserts, fruit platters, and cold dishes were spread out in abundance, creating a scene that blended luxury, excess, and that almost unreal euphoria only Hollywood knew how to turn into spectacle.
In the center of the main hall stood an enormous gilded sculpture of the number "9."
Its meaning was simple: Death Note had surpassed 900 million dollars at the worldwide box office.
At first, Reagan had wanted something even more exaggerated. His idea had been to commission a statue of Alex holding the number "9" high above his head, as if offering his own triumph to the gods of cinema. Fortunately, Alex talked him out of it.
It was just too damn stupid.
Saoirse, an actress still lingering somewhere around Hollywood's third tier, nearly lost her breath when she stepped into the party. To her, it looked less like a corporate celebration and more like a secret gathering of the industry's gods. Every few steps, there was a face she was used to seeing only on magazine covers, movie posters, or award-show broadcasts.
Taylor.
Jennifer.
Johnson.
Anne.
One Hollywood star after another passed before Saoirse's eyes, and her expression became harder and harder to control.
Beside her, Emma, the little witch who had crossed the magical world and was now trying to stand firm in the real world of celebrities, could not help letting out a soft laugh.
"Hey… could you not act like such a country bumpkin?"
In truth, with Saoirse's current status, she should not have had the right to appear at a party of this level. At best, she was still a second-tier actress, and even that was being generous. Recently, however, she had acted in a new film alongside the famous Chalamet. After practically begging him for half a day, she finally managed to get him to arrange an invitation for her.
"Hey, ladies! Let's give a warm round of applause to the true star of tonight's party… Alex!"
The voice belonged to Reagan, president of Netfi and also the actor who played the third Kira in the second half of Death Note. The man, whose hair and beard had already turned completely white, appeared with an arm around two stunning young women, as if proving to the world that as long as a man was still breathing, his lust would refuse to die with him.
Seeing that scene, Alex felt that perhaps his own old age would end up looking more or less the same.
Maybe like that legendary old man, the father of a certain controversial tycoon, who at eighty could still get involved with eighteen-year-old girls. Father and son really were an impressive pair in the end. One liked them young; the other liked them older.
The entire hall erupted into applause and cheers. Alex, who had been casually chatting with Cristiano Ronaldo until then, raised his hand in acknowledgment, smiling without much effort.
There was a small regret in his mind. In this parallel world, Stephen Chow existed. Otherwise, Alex really would have wanted to gather Cristiano Ronaldo, Messi, and a group of top football stars to shoot something like Shaolin Soccer. That would definitely have been fun.
The problem was that football, as a film or animation theme, simply did not have that many strong representatives.
Basketball, at least, still had Slam Dunk and Kuroko's Basketball holding the line.
Football, on the other hand…
Some readers might think of Captain Tsubasa.
Messi as Tsubasa Ozora and Cristiano Ronaldo as Kojiro Hyuga?
But honestly, once the childhood filter was removed, it was easy to see that the work had plenty of flaws. Just compare it with Slam Dunk: twenty years after its ending, countless readers still regretted that the National Tournament arc had never received a complete anime adaptation.
But who even knew Captain Tsubasa was still being published?
The difference in influence was far too great.
"Alex, congratulations."
Scarlett approached him with a smile perfectly balanced between enthusiasm and regret. Back then, because they had failed to reach an agreement on her salary, she had missed the chance to participate in Death Note. Now, after the film had exploded like this, her insides were probably green from regret.
Alex, however, did not hold a grudge over something so small.
After all, who in this industry was not chasing money?
Didn't that famous teacher, the one known for identifying gold diggers, always say she had entered the business precisely for money?
Alex fully agreed.
Which was exactly why, so that he could earn more, it would be wonderful if everyone else agreed to earn a little less.
At the end of the day, he was the same kind of person. He wanted to pocket more, which was why he pushed actors' salaries down.
Bale, Megan, and the others, who had already worked with Alex several times, understood that logic very well. When working with him, the real profit did not always come from the initial paycheck. Once the work exploded, there would be advertisements, interviews, variety shows, international invitations, and an ocean of money waiting outside.
Scarlett, on the other hand, had failed to realize that in time.
And that was exactly why Megan had overtaken her.
With Bleach and Death Note, two consecutive productions, Megan had already become an extremely recognizable face in the Asian market. Variety-show producers on that side of the world, famous for having too much money and too little judgment, were practically waving stacks of cash just to invite her.
Every time Scarlett saw news about Megan appearing on new programs, campaigns, or events, it felt like swallowing a handful of broken glass.
Unfortunately, Alex did not want to discuss work tonight.
He was here to indulge himself. Otherwise, he would not have sent Bella and Zoe back home ahead of time, precisely to get rid of those two troublesome girls who would only get in the way.
Scarlett noticed that quickly as well. Once she realized Alex showed little interest in hearing about new movies or series, she changed her approach without hesitation, letting the atmosphere between them become more ambiguous.
That was where experienced women were different.
They did not play those exhausting games of innocent girls, pulling and loosening the line, pretending to resist while waiting for the other person to guess every hidden intention.
Alex, however, did not immediately accept Scarlett. He merely touched his chin and let his gaze sweep, one by one, across the many women present at the party.
To be honest, beauty was not a concern.
An ugly woman would not even be qualified to appear at a party like this.
The main issue was finding someone who would not demand responsibility afterward and, at the same time, would not have a mouth too big to keep quiet.
Women from the Kardashian clan, for example, he would never touch.
Damn it. If he really had something with one of that family's women tonight, ABC would be reporting his measurements on national television by tomorrow morning.
"Mr. Alex, hello…"
After Alex had spoken with practically every first-tier actress and still had not taken any of them inside, Saoirse, who remained in the second tier, finally gathered the courage to approach.
"Hm?"
Seeing her, Alex raised his brows slightly.
It was not that her appearance crushed all the major Hollywood stars present in the hall. The main point was something else: her type and temperament were different from that group of seductive, dazzling, carefully decorated women.
To put it simply, she did not seem quite so vulgar.
Most beautiful Hollywood actresses provoked a man's first reaction in a very direct way: throw them onto a bed without thinking twice. The woman before him, however, possessed a beauty touched by a rare air of sharpness, almost a heroic elegance. If she put on a well-tailored suit, she would definitely make certain girls scream in excitement.
"Sir, she is…"
Someone beside him briefly introduced Saoirse.
Alex nodded and looked her up and down.
That gesture made several first-tier actresses secretly observing the scene feel uncomfortable. In their minds, the same disdainful question surfaced: Alex was not actually interested in someone of that level, was he?
Saoirse, however, interpreted that look in a different way. The possibility made her even more excited. Could it be that her image suited a role in one of Alex's future works?
Unfortunately, Alex had no intention of handing her anything directly.
She was overestimating herself.
When casting actors, Alex did consider their fame as a way to increase a work's heat, but he never depended on such things. His productions already carried their own popularity, and not just any popularity, but the highest kind possible.
It was like when a major director placed his own name in the director's slot. There was no need to deliberately hype anything. The media would come running on its own, like dogs smelling meat.
"Interested in coming to my room tonight to talk? Of course, I can't guarantee I'll be able to give you anything."
Alex smiled as he spoke.
Frankly, the only thing missing was for him to write four words across his forehead: I want it for free.
Saoirse froze for a moment.
Clearly, she had not expected a director capable of creating a 900-million-dollar box office miracle to say something like that so openly.
At least draw her a promise first!
That night, inside the car, Saoirse's agent nearly exploded while looking at her.
"Are you stupid?"
The woman's voice carried a deep exhaustion, as if she were bearing the weight of a twenty-year-old girl who understood absolutely nothing about how this world worked.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is for a second-tier actress to get close to Alex? That place was like a pack of demonesses staring at a piece of sacred flesh, and you still managed to let him slip away right under your nose?"
"But… but he wanted to take advantage of me for free!"
Saoirse defended herself indignantly.
The agent slapped a hand against her own forehead.
Managing a twenty-year-old girl really was exhausting as hell.
So what if he wanted to take advantage?
Sleeping with Alex was hardly a loss.
He was not like those old Hollywood directors who stank and looked like they never showered. With Sosuke Aizen's face, even if she slept with him without receiving anything, she would not be losing out.
It might even become the best night of her life.
"At least you got his private contact information, right?"
The agent asked, already feeling a headache rising.
"Ah! I forgot…"
The agent fell silent.
Her fist tightened.
The next morning, Scarlett lay naked in bed, reading the character script Alex had given her. The more she read, the more dissatisfaction filled her face.
"Why is my part so small?"
She would be written out in a single episode?
Was that not basically a cameo?
Alex shrugged, as if there was nothing he could do.
One Punch Man simply did not have that many female characters. The Tornado and Blizzard sisters had already been divided between Violet Grant and Emily. Scarlett could only be wronged a little and accept a smaller role.
"If you don't want it, you can wait for the next project."
Alex was completely calm. If Scarlett refused, he would be perfectly happy as well. After all, who would not want to have fun and then not have to pay anything afterward?
"No. I'll do it!"
Scarlett answered angrily.
Even if it was only to avoid letting Alex take advantage of her for free, she knew she should not give up the chance to appear in one of his works. At the very least, she needed to strengthen her presence in the minds of the Asian audience and stop Megan from leaving her even further behind.
That same afternoon, Alex flew back home.
When internet users saw Scarlett traveling alongside him, the comment section of his profile, which had been quiet for some time, immediately began stirring again.
"Damn! Alex, that scumbag, really has the spirit of an ancient conqueror! He specializes in foreign married women!"
"Did he make Scarlett wear the Black Widow suit? She once said in an interview that the outfit was so tight she almost felt suffocated. Just imagining it is exciting."
"Are all of Alex's fans this vulgar?"
"Is the person above in elementary school? Do you not know what kind of bastard Alex is?"
"If Scarlett didn't do anything with that dog Alex, I'll cut off my head and let you all kick it around."
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